Downpour
by WHS72
Summary: Torrential rain, kidnappings, and a hostage situation currently occupy the time of Inspector Carmelita Fox. After the rumored whispers of a threat in Paris emerge, Inspector Fox finds herself deep into the dark grit of the crime underworld. Join Carmelita, Sly, and others as they race against time to prevent the resurrection of a hellish evil that threatens to consume the world.
1. Chapter 1

Hi there, this first chapter is going to serve as a preface for me, considering I'm new to writing and I need a good way to get my feet wet. I first wish to state that I intend to fulfill my wish of providing an original source of entertainment for you all, and am open to any ideas that are put forward.

If it appears that my work resembles anything similar on the site, it is unintentional and please do let me know, I'm willing to compromise.

I will try to update as much as I can, and with Spring Break right around the corner, that will give me plenty of time to play around with.

If anybody has any questions, comments, or anything of that nature, please feel free to message me; I look forward to sharing my thoughts with you and begin work on my first ever Fanfiction, _Downpour_.


	2. Welcome to the Show

**A/N: This first chapter will be taken from Carmelita's POV; I intend to change it up from time to time but most of the story will revolve fom her point of view. I'll update when I can, and I'm going to include some songs at the end that I was listening to while writing this. This will serve as a jump into the story; there will be graphic descriptions of violence in later chapters as well as language. I may try to include a love story in with this, I'll let the feedback decide. Y'all enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sly Cooper, Carmelita Fox, or any characters represented in the Sly Cooper Franchise. I don't own anything aside from my OC's, just to get the legal stuff out of the way.**

Paris, France  
5:27 A.M.

_And I don't care much for words of doom,  
If its love you need well I got the room,  
It's a simple thing changed in me,  
when I found you._

I gave the small dial to the radio a good jab, changing from the Neil Diamond CD jammed in the player to the satellite radio. The closest station was a soft, piano backed country song.

_For so long I searched in desperation,  
For one love that would always be true.  
And I came close, but there were always complications,  
I finally decided there was nothing I could do. _

Not helping. I turned the radio off, and pulled to the side of the vacant Parisian street that was halfway flooded. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating the past few months. With the fall of Le Paradox and the disappearance of the Cooper Gang, I was the closest one could come to being out of a job. Fortunately, or, unfortunately, the crime rate in Paris had tripled compared to that before Le Paradox's capture. Interpol was now working second stick to the regular Parisian authorities. It was slow and dreadful work, but it had its perks. Shorter hours, better pay, and a less dangerous schedule had made work tedious but rewarding. Only yesterday, Barkley said he was considering bumping me up to Detective. But a promise like that fell short more often than not. That realization really hit a nerve, in more ways than one. A realization that had been gnawing away at me for the past few months in the back of my mind.

"Sly." It was true, I missed him. It was the chases that made work worthwhile, and the few times that we had worked together had created a better relationship between both of us. Since his disappearance, the closest I've ever come was a faulty lead in Panama, which had ended in disaster. I shuddered at the thought of what my division had been put through. A copycat thief led us to Panama; the only difference being he preferred a larger application of explosives in his getaways. The incident had left 9 dead, 23 wounded. That included me as well. I brushed my finger along the scar that snaked across my neck and down my collarbone. We caught up with him, put him through the wringer; he's currently serving 50 years at a maximum security prison in Prague. As dangerous as it was, we still had no indication that Sly was even alive. Not that I'd like to think that for a second. I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, listening to the gentle rhythm of rain pour off the car.

_...The dance at Rajan's Palace, the way he held you. The time in Monaco, as charming as he was..._

I shook off the thoughts and grabbed my shock pistol, placing it in my holster and stepping out into the rain. Slamming the door shut, I took a few steps before the radio on my hip crackled to life.

"_Inspector Fox, this is McGuire." _ I took the radio from my hip and spoke as I moved under the cover of a canopy.

"Go ahead Steve." I made my way towards a small intersection near a restaurant that overlooked the Seine. The Palm d'Ore was currently surrounded by a semi –circle of police vehicles and trucks, all placed about 100 yards from the main entrance. The lights were on, but there weren't any people inside. Paying customers that is.

"_We have the restaurant locked down, they got nowhere to go. I'm by the crosswalk to your left." _ I turned and saw a hunched figure underneath a tree, waiting patiently with a group of officers. I made my way across the street until I saw Steve step out of the group. Steve McGuire, or "Stevie" as most called him, was a bulky bloodhound with a large maw, two black eyes, and droopy skin that hung around his face. A small goatee protruded from underneath one of the layers of skin on his chin. He wasn't a ladykiller, but many liked him for his cheerful nature and encouraging mood. He was a former CIA operator who was transferred after the Panama incident, and had become a mentor to most of the new Inspectors and Constables. I shook his hand with a nod and a smile, noting the toothy grin he always used when he greeted someone.

"Steve..." He returned the handshake and immediately brought me into the huddle of Inspectors, a small table with a set of blueprints and schematics wrapped in laminate centered in the group.

"Carm, it's good to see you. Now, I might as well get you up to date on the details." He glanced at his watch and turned back to me.

"Approximately 40 minutes ago, Ernest Zelik, an Austrian banker and financial wizard, was taken hostage in the restaurant. As far as we know, it's him and four other men. These guys are rockin' military hardware and modern comms, so it's easy to assume that they're not amateurs. We looked at the blueprints and found an external exit, but we don't know if these guys have it covered." He wiped the condensation from his watch again, tapping it with a dull claw.

"By my count, we have an hour and a half to get 2 million US dollars or they smoke him. Personally, I don't think they'd be that stupid, and he's the only leverage they have." I followed him as he walked to a squad car and pulled the mic from the radio to his lips.

"Peter, when'd you say the transfers get in?" The radio was silent for a moment before it crackled to life.

"_Uhh, about five minutes. Barkley's got them at your position. We just have to see how it plays out. By the way, the other guy for the sniper team hitched a ride with 'em, said he knew you?"_ Steve stood for a few seconds and turned back to me.

"What's his name?" A few moments of silence again before Peter returned.

"_I'll get back to you; I'm running the papers now. Out."_ Steve replaced the mic and walked to the edge of cars, watching the figures inside the restaurant. That was another fact that struck me. Since the Panama incident, many of the new Inspectors were American. They were the first willing when no one else would. A French police officer next to us had set up a H&K PSG-1, outfitted with a suppressor and what looked to be a night-vision scope.

"You said something about a sniper team?" Steve scoffed and turned back to me with a grin.

"Hell, that's the only way we can do this if we don't have the money." I glanced at the silhouettes of the kidnappers before walking back to the group around the table, grabbing one of the schematics of the external entrance. Steve followed shortly behind, pulling an umbrella from his jacket as the rain picked up and flashes of lightning pocked the sky.

"If you're wondering, we don't know who these guys are..." I turned to him as he handed me the umbrella. "...Jihadis, Chechens, Albanians, we don't know. All we know is their leader sounds like he's Spanish, or Arabic. Something. I'm waiting on a test result for an ID match, but we've come up blank." I turned to speak again when a dark blue van turned the corner and stopped a few meters from the gathering, its lights flooding the empty streets surrounding the barricade.

"Here we go, don't try to scare them too bad." Steve let out a chuckle and walked towards the van, stopping just short of the cover of the tree. The door slid open and gave way to a half dozen figures, all heavily clad in jackets and coats. They pushed to either side of the van and huddled near the tree, some visibly shaking in the rain.

"Come on, you guys ever been in the rain?" A lone figure emerged from the van, a wolf with charcoal grey fur clad in significantly less than his counterparts. He wore what looked to be combat fatigues and boots, along with a tactical vest and a t-shirt paired with gloves on his hands. He had a dark beige baseball cap on his head, with a pair of steely-blue eyes clasped in the shadow of the brim. His eyes were set behind a black snout, and he had a slight grin on his face as he walked towards Steve and I.

"Son of a bitch..." Steve was taken aback before he let out a a childish laugh and patted the wolf on the back.

"Alex! Alex is that you?" The wolf nodded with a smile and returned the pat, shaking his hand as well.

"How ya been old man? Boys at Langley said you been stirring up some trouble over here. This ain't gonna end like Tikrit is it?" The wolf had a soft, pleasant voice backed by a slight draw. He turned to me with a hand outstretched.

"Inspector Fox, do you remember me? From Mesa City? I provided over-watch as you moved in on Two-Gun Tony." I thought back to Mesa City, but it was now just a distant memory. I returned the handshake and gave a nod, but didn't say anything more. He took note and followed up.

"Inspector Alex McKnight, at your service ma'am." He turned and laid a long, tan case on the hood of one of the cars.

"Steve already filled me in on the situation, and I know it's gonna get hairy. I just got to make sure..." he heaved out a MacMillan Tac-300 with a case of shells, "...we don't end up on the news with a dead banker?" He began to load in the shells as I held my arms outstretched at my sides.

"That's it." He flashed a small grin and locked the bolt to the rifle into place, turning his hat backwards on his head as he did so. He looked at Steve before turning back to me.

"Well then...let's go hunting."

**A/N: I know this first chapter was short, but i was somewhat limited with time. Y'all read and review if you like, and take care.**

**Songs of the Chapter:***

**_If You Only Knew_ - Shinedown**

**_Look What I Found_ - Chris Cagle**

**_Outta My Head_ - Craig Campbell**

**_Sharp Dressed Man _- ZZ Top (Just to rock out to)**

***I do listen to primarily country; I'll try to mix it up ever so often.**


	3. Dirty Jobs

**A/N: I do apologize that it has taken me so long to update. I've been swamped with testing, projects, and research papers for the past month and a half. Anyway, I am thankful for those who have stuck with me so far, and I hope to acquire new readers along the way. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sly Cooper or any part of the Sly Cooper Franchise including places, people, etc.**

Paris, France  
6:53 A.M.

"_Good Evening, this is Robert Stephenson with CNN World News. We have confirmed reports that Austrian national and banker Ernest Zelik has been taken hostage in Paris, France. The kidnappers have barricaded themselves inside a restaurant positioned just over the Seine and have threatened to take his life if their demands are not met. Police reports suggest that the me-_" Steve pinched the radio dial with two meaty fingers and turned it until a melody of soft jazz began to thump from the speakers of the van. He began to nod his head before heading to the back of the tech van. The van itself could have fit a small cubicle in its belly, but at the moment it was home to an array of monitors, keypads, and buzzing modems. Winthrop, his small eyes scanning across the monitors, hastily typed away at the keyboard in front of him as Steve opened up the back of the van. A canopy had been stretched from the edge of the bumper to the clump of trees were the original planning "area" had been set up. McKnight was just outside the door of the van, leaning his shoulder against the unopened side and propping his rifle up on the roof of a car beside the van.

"Got any news?" The wolf let out a chuckle and turned, tilting the rifle up as he did so.

"Well, someone thought it was a good idea to cut their lights; they didn't seem too happy. With the windows blacked out though, I wouldn't know if a shot would hit Zelik..." He leaned his head in and gave me a slight nod. "If we're gonna do something, we've got to do it soon." I gave the armrest of the seat in the van a punch, trying to vent a little anger out. I felt the hotness in my face growing, my muscles tensing, and that feeling of seeing red slowly creeping back into my mind. There was no chance that the Cooper Gang could help sort this one out. That had been the kicker to all of the Cooper cases. Even though I missed my opportunities to capture Sly, the fall of the Fiendish Five and the dissolving of the Klaww Gang brought some consolation.

"Steve, how much time do we have?" The dog gave a quick look at his watch and held four fingers up.

Four minutes...

"The French have GIGN standing by; you just have to give the green light." I put my head in my hands for a minute, trying to weigh the decisions. If we tried with the sniper team, there was a very likely chance that we could hit Zelik in the dark. Waiting it out could have the same result; there really wasn't another option. I grabbed a bullet proof vest from the overhead bin and began to tighten the straps around my chest.

"Dios mio... We're going in. Tell the French we move in three minutes. This has to be perfecto. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am." Steve hopped out of the van and I followed, stepping by McKnight who had replaced his sniper rifle with a Colt Modular M901, a smaller variant of the popular AR frame. His was equipped with a Tasco Red Dot Sight and a thin cylindrical suppressor fitted over the end. He walked beside me as we headed towards where the GIGN forces were gathered.

"So..." He kept the same pace as me with a relaxed walk, and drummed his fingers up and down on the butt-stock of his rifle that was slung around his neck.

"Que?"

"You think that they're that stupid? To risk their lives and an OP over one man? I doubt some terrorists are willing to kill themselves over money..." I tightened the last strap of the vest before stopping and turning to him with a slight glare on my face.

"I know that you ran some operations with Steve. What were you before Interpol? Army, Special Forces? I doubt Barkley would sign up anyone who didn't know their way around a situation." He laughed and tipped his hat, showing an anchor and trident on the back that was weaved into the Velcro strap.

"DEVGRU." I gave him a look, unaware of what the term meant. "Navy SEALS. After a few tours I piggybacked on some of the CIA operations in Europe that Steve was running. I was asked by Interpol to work the South-East section of the U.S. After ..." He paused, the grin on his face now turning solemn.

"What?" He shifted his stance a little, showing apprehensiveness towards me.

"...Panama. After Panama and all the shit that went down, they moved me to the headquarters in Lyon. I read the case file, and I know Panama was bad, bad for everyone." I instantly felt my fists clinch again, thinking about the damage that had been done. The children that would never know their father or mother, parents who lost a child...I would never get over the loss of my team that day.

"How would you know? Without being there?" I knew as soon as the words had left my mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. If he was a SEAL, he obviously saw a lot worse than I could have imagined. Before I could apologize, he simply took off his hat and turned his head slightly, revealing a meshwork of scar tissue that ran from one ear down his neck. The hat had kept most of it covered, but now I saw that it carried down onto his shoulder and part of his arm. He shifted uncomfortably and placed the hat back on his head, tipping it down slightly to cover his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

"Don't worry about it." He turned with a weak smile on his face. "I know what happened and I'm sorry. " I had noticed that he knew more about the Panama incident than he would acknowledge. As the officers who were able scrambled to evacuate the wounded, a second bomb exploded in the already destroyed complex, sending more shrapnel from the twisted metal and splintered wood. That second explosion was the deadliest, and had killed and wounded more than the first, including many from my division.

"That's in the past though..." I felt a chill of cool air gust under the canopy, sending a chill down my back. "Sometimes that's where you have to leave it." He gave a reassuring nod and turned towards the end of the canopy, which stopped just short of a small clump of vans. Printed on the hoods were the words "Groupe d'Intervention de la Gendarmerie Nationale". It was the GIGN. All of them were strapping on their gear and pulling over black vests stitched with the French police insignia.

"Inspector Fox." I turned as a tall badger stepped forward, a helmet in one hand and an H&K MP5SD slung over his shoulder. He outstretched his hand and I shook it in a quick, single motion. Alex walked over to the GIGN troops and began conversing with them.

"Commander Adrian Bardenier, we are ready to move on the restaurant. If you and your people will breach through the meat locker, we can handle the front doors." I nodded and unholstered my shock pistol, turning it on with a hum and a dull blue glow.

"We can handle it, get your men ready Commander, we move in 2 minutes." She turned to the remainder of the GIGN. "Zelik is the priority, but we know that they have modern equipment and military weaponry. Eliminate with extreme prejudice, but don't compromise Zelik over one shot. Good luck." He bowed his head slightly and strapped on the helmet, ordering his men with a quick motion of his hand. The group moved out from the vans and rushed towards the blacked out windows in a tactical fast walk with their weapons raised. The sun was beginning to rise, giving the clouds above a light grey hue to them as they raced to cover up the remaining sky. Steve was already at the edge of the police line when Alex and I took off towards the other end. By my count, we had 1 minute before the GIGN breached the restaurant. Steve had also drawn a Colt .38 Special, and was holding it at his side. He gave a nod with a slight smirk. Alex returned the nod.

"So, it's going to be one hell of a party after all." Alex tapped him on the shoulder, motioning for him to come as we broke from the police line.

"Just like Barcelona, right?" Alex's jog turned into a run, and he reached the metal door to the meat locker before we all formed a line next to it. Steve stepped forward to kick it when Alex held him back.

"No need, I picked up a little something from the GIGN." He produced from his vest a small cylindrical tube, topped with a metal wire and a pull tab. He tossed the device to Steve, who, recognizing it, placed the wire around the door handle of the meat locker and gave a tug on the pull tab as Alex scanned the alley next to the restaurant. Puzzled, I watched Steve backed away and Alex pressed himself against the wall as he gently pushed me a few feet back, starting a countdown with his fingers. He turned his head after he held out one finger, prompting me to do the same. The handle shattered from the small explosion produced from the device, and left a small smoldering hole about the size of a baseball. Alex mule kicked the bottom of the door, knocking it open as the colder air of the meat locker spilled into the street in a small stream of fog. I rushed in behind him, scanning the lines of metal racks and hooks as my eyes became enveloped in the darkness. The meat locker was silent, but I heard the sharp crack from the front of the restaurant as the GIGN broke through the wooden doors. I tried to move, but bumped into one of the metal racks that were used to store food. I cursed silently, looking up to see Alex round the corner of the rack with his rifle raised. Seeing me, he shook his head disapprovingly and clicked on a flashlight, tossing it to me with one hand. I caught it, clasping it in my left hand with my shock pistol in my right. I made it to the door that led into the kitchen, peering through the small, cylindrical window at the top of it. Bumping it open with my shoulder, I scanned the stacked pots, hanging utensils, and scattered boxes. The kitchen was a mess, with the majority of the food on the floor. I started to walk towards the back of the kitchen when I heard a soft clang. Spinning around, I aimed my pistol at a figure that was standing in the doorway. It was Commander Bardenier, holding a hand up towards the light.

"Would you please?" I turned the light off and met him in the center part of the kitchen that overlooked the main foyer of the restaurant. Alex emerged from the meat locker, and then Steve.

"So, anybody else got a bad feeling about this?" Alex chimed in softly, scanning the back part of the kitchen that led back out into the alley. I turned back to Bardenier.

"Have your men found anything?" He shrugged, motioning towards the front foyer.

"A couple of drinks, but nothing more than that. I fear that we have arrived too late Inspector." I stomped my foot on the ground, but maintained my composure as best as I could. Since the incident with Le Paradox, I had taken some anger management classes. I thought they would have little effect, but alleviate some of the frustration. I was about to turn to the front of the restaurant when I heard Alex call out.

"Inspector Fox, you need to see this!" We raced towards the sound of his voice and saw his light aimed at a round, hollow entrance that led downwards. A rusty ladder was attached to the hole, and a discarded cover was propped up against the wall. A horrid stench came from the hole, and we all turned away in disgust.

"The sewers?" Alex nodded, leaning forward to peer into the hole.

"Looks like we're going down. Did we know that they had a sewer system down here?" I shook my head, pulling out my radio.

"No, we thought they were pinned in. Winthrop, can you pull up the layout of the sewer underneath the restaurant?" I waited for a moment before the radio buzzed to life.

"I-I can try. I'll s-send the details to y-you." Bardenier rounded up his men, gathering them towards the door of the meat locker.

"Inspector, I'll send my men to some of the sewer outlets. The only way that they can get out from here is to the Seine. Hopefully, we are not too late." I gave him a nod.

"Good luck." The GIGN rushed out to their vans and sped away towards the different sewer exits on the Seine, an effort I realized would be near impossible. Trying to find a few people in the Parisian sewers would be difficult, especially not knowing how far ahead they were. I turned back and Alex had moved onto the ladder, waiting for Steve and I.

"Talk about dirty jobs." He slid down the ladder and I heard his boots slosh in the putrid water when he hopped from the metal. Steve stepped down the ladder and I followed, cringing as my boots became enveloped in the filthy refuse. Alex was already aiming towards the end of the tunnel, and motioned with one arm forward.

"Let's go get Zelik, see if we can get any answers out of him as to why this is happening."

**A/N: Well, I figure a good place to leave off and keep people interested. I hope I can get the next chapter updated sooner than the last, and I look forward to reading the comments and listening to any suggestions y'all may have. **  
**-Take Care, WHS72**

**Songs of the Chapter:**

**_Saving Me_-Nickelback (Hopefully I'm not crucified for this!)**

**_Arlington_-Trace Adkins**

**_Some People Change_-Montgomery Gentry**

**_It's Time_-Imagine Dragons**

**Also if you want to ask me any questions, I do have an account on XBOX Live. I'm the same as my penname (WHS72), and I keep it because I'm not big into Facebook and Twitter.**


	4. Resurgence

Parisian Sewer System  
7:42 A.M.

The cylindrical tunnels of the sewer reeked with rancid water that clung to all the sides of the deteriorating concrete. The air hung thick with a putrid fog, and the runoff from the streets had created pools of water that congregated in the floors of the tunnel. We moved forward and slogged through the ankle deep water, and I cringed as I felt the various materials brush past my boots. Alex, leading us forward into the darkness, stopped a few feet ahead of me and leaned out of the tunnel to glance at the one that ran perpendicular to ours.

"Shit..." I saw him lean back in and turn towards where Steve and I were.

"What's wrong?" He nodded his head towards the tunnel with a cynical grin on his face.

"Looks like we're about to get dirty; as if we weren't already, right?" I stepped forward and saw what he was referring to. The rain above ground had caused the sewers to flood, turning the tunnel into a waist deep black river.

"_Oh god_..." Without a second thought, Alex hopped down into the river of rotting material. He was submerged up to his belt, and I watched a cringe on his face form as his tail swished back and forth, trying to stay above the water line. I stayed in the tunnel, turning on my radio and raising it to my mouth.

"Does anyone have a location for us yet?" My ears were met with a garbled static mixed with incomprehensible words. I realized then that the dense concrete was obstructing the radio signal, and I turned it off in disappointment. Steve placed a hand on my shoulder and nodded forward.

"We'll have to go in without comms. Alex, mind popping a flare?" I eased down into the black water, heaving as my tail skimmed across the top of the rotting mixture. Steve lowered himself down as McKnight, lighting a flare from his vest, threw it to the farthest end of tunnel. The flare connected with metal, and it soon illuminated a stairway that ran parallel to water and led to another side tunnel before sinking into the sluggish river. I slogged forward, feeling the refuse and litter in the water brush past me. I reached the stairs first, raising myself up quickly and stopping by the railing. I bent over and heaved as Alex and Steve emerged from the river, both with looks of disgust on their face. Steve stumbled for a moment, and then bent over the railing as a disgusting slosh erupted from the water. Cringing, I turned and saw Alex produce the flashlight he had carried with him earlier and scan the nearby tunnel.

"Hey, hey what do you make of this?" Painted on the wall was a simple star, paired with a crudely drawn arrow pointing deeper into the tunnel system. Both looked fresh, and were the only visible markings on the wall. He gave me a look with a small grin. I tapped on the wall next to the tunnel with a finger.

"Think we found our guys. Do you know where this tunnel goes?" He shrugged, and looked up to the roof of the chamber we were in and scanned with the flashlight.

"If I'm right, we moved to the west from the restaurant. That should have brought us deeper into the city and towards the central sewage distribution. Depending on how far ahead of us they are..." He trailed off and looked back at the tunnel, highlighting the markings in the beam of the light.

"So they could be anywhere in the city?" He stepped forward into the tunnel, tapping his fingers on the hilt of his flashlight. I held my arms out in an exasperated position until he turned back to us.

"Not necessarily. With all of the flooding, the central system would have had to seal off some of the major water junctions to prevent overflowing. If we can contact Winthrop, we can get the schematics and trace the trail through. It's a longshot though." He was about to toss the flashlight to me when a shower of sparks erupted all around us, preceded by sharp and repeating cracks from the tunnel. We both ducked to the sides of the entrance, and Alex almost fell back into the river of liquid garbage while he fumbled for his rifle. After the shooting stopped, we all heard loud cursing coming from the end of the tunnel paired with angry bursts of foreign language. I turned the corner and fired bolts from my Shock Pistol, watching as the glowing blue projectiles impacted the walls of the tunnel. Steve moved from the railing and fired rounds from his .38 into the darkness.

"I think we found them. Steve, Carmelita! Get ready to move, on my go!" Alex stepped forward and threw an M-84 Stun Grenade into the tunnel, turning away as the booming explosion resonated in the darkness. Alex rushed forward into the darkness, and I followed after a large crash came from the end of the tunnel. Taking a peak, I saw Alex standing among the smoke and debris left over from the stun grenade with a masked figure underneath his boot. He waved a hand towards us, motioning me to come into the tunnel.

"We're clear. They surely would have heard those shots, so we need to get moving soon. Now..." He dug his boot into the back of the masked figure, who let out a sharp squeal. "Let's see what our friend knows." I knelt down as the figure let out a string of foreign cursing right in my face. I ripped off the mask, revealing a dirty and grungy hyena underneath. He watched Steve move past us to the far side of the tunnel, and then mumbled something under his breath with a cynical laugh. Alex dug his boot in harder.

"English motherfucker. You speak it?" The hyena let out a hiss before turning his head to look at Alex.

"Da. You were able to figure out we went into the sewers yes?" He paused to look at me, a dark smile creeping across his face. "That was the plan after all." Alex looked to me, his eyes widening slightly. He rolled the hyena over and pressed his boot onto his chest.

"What plan? What was this about? Zelik?" The hyena stayed silent, and Alex pressed the barrel of the gun into his face. "Talk!" The hyena chuckled again, and shrugged his shoulders under the weight of Alex's leg.

"Zelik was the bait. You and your people were meant to pay for the destruction of our messiah, but got away unscathed. No more. In less than an hour, my men will detonate a chain of explosives that will cripple the waste distribution of Paris from the center of the city, and provide for you a tomb in which to rest in. You can't run from your past Inspector. Eventually, it will come for you. Unless you get there in time..." The hyena let out a coarse chuckle before spitting at my boots.

"Messiah? Who?" The hyena's face turned to rage before he let spat at me in a venomous tone.

"You destroyed our master's means of living, and withered his body to ash. You must pay for what you have done." A chill ran up my spine, as I realized he could only mean one person.

"Clockwerk..." Apparently the nemesis of the Cooper Clan had garnered more support than anyone had realized. The hyena let out a whispered prayer in Russian before glaring at me.

"Yes. You destroyed the one thing that fueled our master's thirst for vengeance. Now that he is gone, those who remained loyal to him struggle to maintain his empire and the legacy he established. My men and I sought retaliation for our messiah's undoing, and where better to strike but the ground that he was slain on?" So Zelik was a pawn; a tool to get to us, or more specifically, me.

"What will all of this accomplish? Your men will either die in the explosions or be captured by my people. There is no way of redeeming the actions you have committed." The hyena let out a sick laugh.

"A necessary price to pay for the survival of our master's legacy. His power runs deeper than you could have possibly imagined, even in death. Soon, _he_ will come for you. A power is growing in the heart of the world, a power you have failed to see. That anyone has failed to see." The hyena was now raving mad. "Our messiah will be brought forward from the ashes of the earth. He will shelter us from our enemies, and he shall seek a newer world! The inner machinations of your mind will be unable to comprehend the power of Clockwerk, and the wrath he will deal onto those whom he wishes to smite!" He let out a sickening laugh as he writhed under Alex's weight. Alex drove the butt of his rifle into the hyena's face, knocking him out with the crack of a broken nose. He looked at me again and began to back into the tunnel.

"We need to move, now! Steve, can you get him back to the police line?" He nodded and grabbed the hyena by the shoulders, dragging him back towards the tunnel that we had come from. Alex grabbed the rifle that the hyena had been using and tossed me the rifle he had brought with him.

"You know how to use one of these, right?" I measured the lightweight rifle in my hands and looked down the sights, seeing the markings on the wall through the circle and dot reticle.

"I can manage, what's the plan?" He walked over to an inlet of the tunnel and tapped on one of the rungs of a service ladder that led to the surface.

"I'll head up top; see if I can find where the tunnels reach the distribution center. With any luck, we can head off any of his men. Keep going, I'll let you know if I find anything." With that simple piece of advice, he began to scale the ladder towards the manhole cover. I took off down the corridor, my boots echoing loudly off of the tunnel walls. I pondered the morning's events as I raced through the narrow passages, weaving in and out of tunnels that were marked with the star and arrow. Even though Zelik wasn't the target, he was still a valuable tool that the hyena's men could use. Getting Zelik out safely would be difficult. Then the mere mention of Clockwerk had caused the hair on my neck to stand up. The mechanical beast had been beaten twice; could it be possible for him to be revived once again? Arpeggio was certainly capable of producing the tools necessary to sustain Clockwerk's life. Could someone have found the remnants of Arpeggio's work? Could the hate chip be replicated? If the hyena was right, it was only a matter of time before a disaster would descend on Paris. All in due time. Right now, I need to focus on getting to Zelik. The tunnel split into three at a sewer junction, and I scanned the walls to identify the markings. The roof of the sewer was now replaced with metal grates; apparently I had moved upward at some point and was right below the street level. I could hear the din of police sirens ring out above me, and the usual bustle of the crowd shift the grates with a soft creak. There was another problem as well. The walls of the junction were free of any markings; the trail had simply disappeared. I knew that I had taken the right tunnels, and I moved to push deeper into the sewers when a voice startled me from behind.

"Say, I thought Carmelita Fox only chased after one criminal with a tail, not a whole mob of rats." Instead of the rough voice that I anticipated from the hyena's men, I was met with a cool and almost cocky tone, a tone I recognized instantly. With the rifle raised, I turned on my heels to find a familiar silhouette amidst the split beams of light. It couldn't be...There was no way. He was gone. My hesitations were gone when I saw the gold 'C' of a familiar cane being twirled in the figure's hand.

"Sly?" I saw the figure step forward, the blue peasant cap, shirt, and black mask visible on top of a large grin. I couldn't believe it. He was gone. It had been months; he wouldn't have laid low that long. Would he? I hadn't lowered the rifle, and felt my muscles lock up. I wanted to drop the rifle, and I couldn't decide to hug him or wring his neck. But my body wouldn't respond; I stayed frozen. A gloved hand reached out and pushed the barrel of the rifle gently down. He grinned from ear to ear, placing one of my hands in his.

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a...ghost!" I dropped the rifle and hit him on the arm, causing him to rub his shoulder in a comical manner.

"Ow, what was that for?" I wasn't frozen any more, and I felt a heat building up in my fists and my face.

"What was that for!? You disappeared! I thought you were dead! Everyone thought you were dead! Bentley, Murray...We all thought the worst! Who wouldn't? What? You just, vanish for months on end and now you show up like nothing changed!? Where were you? How did you get back!?" He was taken aback by my short little outburst, and held his hands up in defense. His manner turned from cocky to stern in a second. I guess his joking was over for now.

"I'll explain it in due time, but right now I need your help. It seems someone else has taken an interest in you, besides me. The group I saw come through earlier had you in mind when they rigged the place with explosives. I've been snooping around since I got back. Everybody's talking about someone, but I don't have a name yet. They just say "him". Say he's an expert in what he does, and from what it sounds like I don't want to meet him. Do you know anything about this? Anything bad that could happen?" I then explained the details of the hyena's capture, and the bit of information that Sly provided gave us a name for him. According to Sly, his men referred to him as Volkov. I told him everything that the hyena had told us, from Clockwerk's supposed resurrection to his followers. He was visibly shaken at the thought of another mechanical bird to deal with, and sat down on a rusty pipe that arched through the wall.

"It's worse than I thought. I knew someone would be crazy enough to try it..."

"What do you mean?" He looked up from the ground and grasped both of my shoulders.

"It's something I should have told you, but I couldn't." He turned to face the wall of the sewer and sighed.

"About a year ago, Bentley had discovered one of Arpeggio's manufacturing facilities were he cranked out technology for the Klaww Gang. It was before any of Neyla's involvement or the theft of the Clockwerk parts. What we found was...horrifying. Arpeggio had produced an assortment of designs that would make Clockwerk more deadly than ever. Prototypes of a hellish army that the world has yet to see. He even worked at reproducing the Hate chip. I realized we couldn't let any of that happen. We destroyed the plant, but we weren't sure if that was the only facility. That damn bird couldn't leave well enough alone." He walked to one of the grates and looked up through the slats, watching the precession of feet above.

"None of that matters now. I have to go. Look for the clues, I'll be close. Be careful." Before I could say anything, he busted through the grate with his cane and landed somewhere above. I grasped the edges of the frame where the grate had been when I felt the first explosion. It seemed that Volkov's men had moved faster than we had anticipated. It was time to finish this.

**Songs of the Chapter:**

_**Wanted Dead or Alive **_**–Chris Cagle Cover (Possibly the theme for McKnight)**

_**Your Love**_**- The Outfield**

_**It Goes Like This**_**- Thomas Rhett (A reminiscence of the Sly/Carm relationship)**

_**It's Not My Time**_**-3 Doors Down (I guess as a theme for Sly's reappearance)**

_**Fight for All the Wrong Reasons**_**-Nickelback**

**A/N: As of now, I am publishing this chapter after completing a 32 hour drive across the country to my sister's house. I'm about to crash, and the songs of the chapter were the last five that I listened to. I hope Sly's appearance will orient this story towards its true heading, and I already have a deepened plot to develop upon. I will try to post the next chapter soon to keep the story fresh, and I have more ideas in my bio if you want to check them out. Thanks, and y'all take care. **


	5. UPDATE Change is Coming!

As of lately, I've found my progression in the story more of a burden than something I look forward to doing. Therefore, I've taken it upon myself to create a redux of my current version of "Downpour". I want to alter it to create the story and feel that I had initially set out to craft. As for the current version, I will post a warning chapter and subsequently remove it. I will state anyone is welcome to pick up on the story if they wish, but I ask to refrain from using any of my OC's (Steve, McKnight, Volkov...)I appreciate what support I have received, albeit very little. All I ask for is some time; I know I can do better and wish to craft a piece that I can be proud of.


End file.
